Barnaby heads back to the Citadel, through rubble-strewn streets, as if in a daze. The adrenaline of battle has worn off completely, adrenaline that had kept him feeling any pain in the injury that had mostly been patched up, or the new scrapes and bruises he'd earned from the fight with Syrlya. Adrenaline that had sustained him while he tried to chase down the Pleroma, too enraged and consumed by grief to stop himself.
He'd been pulled back, convinced not to throw his life away, that the precious teardrop shard now in his hands is more important than exacting revenge. It was at that point he finally saw reason, and dragged himself back to the Citadel, bedraggled and exhausted.
If he even spots Emet-Selch close to the Citadel, he's barely aware of his surroundings, looking right through him as he approaches. His eyes are reddened, and his grime-covered face streaked with tears that have since dried. His only goal is to get Howl to the place of power, at which point he can finally crash.
CLOSED - EMET-SELCH
He'd been pulled back, convinced not to throw his life away, that the precious teardrop shard now in his hands is more important than exacting revenge. It was at that point he finally saw reason, and dragged himself back to the Citadel, bedraggled and exhausted.
If he even spots Emet-Selch close to the Citadel, he's barely aware of his surroundings, looking right through him as he approaches. His eyes are reddened, and his grime-covered face streaked with tears that have since dried. His only goal is to get Howl to the place of power, at which point he can finally crash.